


Blood Champion's Vow

by Periwinkle_Picots



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Chronicles - murkybluematter
Genre: Gen, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, Not Beta Read, Post FF15, Potions, Ruse Reveal, Unbreakable Vow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29258772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periwinkle_Picots/pseuds/Periwinkle_Picots
Summary: When Riddle and the Ministry announce an official awards ceremony to crown the Blood Champion a month after the events of the final task, Harriett Potter must find a way to not only escape her grounding at Potter Place and the watchful eyes of her family, but also become Rigel once more and avoid capture whilst fulfilling the requirements of her Unbreakable Vow.Meanwhile, Tom Riddle's plans to bring Rigel to heel gain extra leverage, if he can find the right way to use this new knowledge.*First Fic*
Relationships: Arcturus Rigel "Archie" Black & Harriet Potter | Rigel Black, Dominion Jewel & Harriet Potter | Rigel Black, Lionel "Leo" Hurst & Harriet Potter | Rigel Black
Comments: 53
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: First fic, so I apologize for any characters being too OOC.  
> Takes place after the epilogue of [murkybluematter’s](https://m.fanfiction.net/u/3489773/) Futile Facade, and follows a thought I’d had about Rigel’s part of the Unbreakable Vow.

[TrTrTr]

_Useless!_

Tossing the old tome aside to join the others, Tom Riddle’s anger, which had been simmering ever since the catastrophe of the tournament’s final task, finally _erupted_. With a jerk of his ward, books exploded from the shelves, scraps of parchment filling the air as another twist of his wand set a chair aflame. The old tomes which had sparked his fury sat mockingly near the edge of the desk. A flick sent them tumbling to the polished wooden floor.

“Impostor Rigel not appear in the family tree yet? _What_ a shame.” Jacob Owens tutted. He turned to glare at the boy leaning in the doorway of his study. “I suppose even you can’t find all of Slytherin’s heirs.”

“The boy is not of Slytherin’s line,” Riddle said. “Not unless there is an unrecorded branch.” It was infuriating, combing through the Peverell branches from before the nineteenth century to find one boy. His line had to have split off before then, for the only notable connections after that point were the Gaunts and – surprisingly – the Potters.

But although the Potter heiress had given up her place at the American Institute of Magic to the true Black heir, he could recall her lack of reaction when he’d spoken Parseltongue at the New Year’s Gala the Parkinsons had hosted. He frowned as he recalled his observations of the Potter heiress at that gala. The conversation with Severus. The swapped wands. The lack of change to her magic levels after the healing of Tiberius Ogden. He never had learned why the Potter girl falsified her aura, focused as he’d been on the rat hiding at Hogwarts.

Yet another thing that _halfblooded_ boy would have to answer for once Riddle found him. The Dominion Jewel was too powerful an object to have simply been _destroyed_.

“What do you want?” Riddle said, turning his attention to the lost heir he _had_ found. Owens lifted a his hand to reveal a bottle of potion and a vial with a ragged piece of forest green fabric stained red.

“As much fun as it is to watch you comb through dusty books, I have an easier salutation to finding the impostor.” Owens gave the vial a little shake with a superior smirk. “It really is unfortunate the Aurors didn’t notice the scrap of fabric Rigel left behind.”

Riddle appraised the boy before him, his approval marred by one singular fact. _“You kept thisss sssecret for an entire month?”_ He hissed, Parseltongue harsh with his anger. The boy tilted his chin up, blue eyes narrowed as he hissed a reply.

“ _What elssse wasss I to do, disssrupt your ssscheming? Deprive you of finding him yourssself?”_ Owens shook his head and approached the desk, nimbly sidestepping the wreckage. He set the potion and vial on the desk, “When would have been better: directly after the final task, or when your little marriage law was thrown out?”

“Get out,” Riddle said, reining in his irritation with the boy before him by focusing on the more tantalizing prospect of _finally_ finding the one who’d ruined everything. Rigel Black was meant to be the proof of pureblood superiority, the power which brought a crumbling society to accept its salvation. Instead, he’d assured it’s destruction.

Owens dipped his head and left. Riddle picked up the potion and after a moment of study, recognized it as an ancestry potion. Exchanging it for the vial, he found the contents to be kept under a preservation charm, the fabric scrap still glinting with partially dried blood.

Conjuring a bowl, he poured the potion within before dipping a parchment in to soak. Had the boy tricked the ancestry potion while at Hogwarts? Or had Severus been too enthralled by his precious apprentice’s abilities to actually test the boy as required? Whatever the case, Riddle _would_ know exactly who the boy known as Rigel Black was.

He removed the parchment and laid it on the table. Opening the vial, he tapped the fabric with the tip of his wand. Lifting it from the torn scrap, a semi-congealed string of blood stretched free to follow his wand to the parchment. As the blood slowly twisted to form the true name of the boy who’d thwarted his plans for four years, a soft pop signified the entrance of a house elf.

“What is it?” Riddle asked impatiently, turning to glare at the elf.

“Minister of Magic is waiting in the Floo room, sir.” The elf said, ears waving as she gave a bouncing bow. “Has a plan for catching the Rigel Black Child, he says.”

Picking up the ancestry parchment and folding it – taking care not to look at what names had appeared – Riddle tucked it into his robe. “Very well.” Better to appease the Minister’s latest idea now, before seizing the knowledge of Rigel Black’s true identity.

He walked to the Floo room, exchanging his impatient anticipation for the indignation of a man whose tournament had been sabotaged on multiple fronts. The boy hadn’t been completely at fault for the disaster of the last task, however. His idiotic construct just had to make an international spectacle of its attempt to gain a body and magic. The boy may have won, but his prize ceremony was far different than what had been planned.

Riddle paused, recalling the words from the boy’s Unbreakable Vow.

… _in any and all tasks required of a designated champion._

The wand weighing and Yule ball had both fallen under the Vow’s purview.

In the chaos of the final task, the tournament itself had never officially been concluded, although the planned world tour had been canceled. So perhaps the boy was still bound as the Blood Champion. If so, then perhaps the Minister’s plan could be formulated in such a way as to reel the boy in. After all, an unrecognized name could be nearly useless. Far better to set multiple traps for such a slippery snake.

A calculating smile graced his lips as he entered the Floo room to greet the Minister. The boy would be found, one way or another.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I stay up too late to finish this chapter? Yes, yes I did.

[HpHpHp]

Leo held her outside of Tate’s until Harry was able to put her pieces back together. They didn’t all fit quite right, some edges too sharp and jagged to return to the smooth facade she’d had before, but there was strange relief to it at the same time.

 _He knew_. He’d known for a month, had stolen her knife from the evidence box on the very night the first half of the ruse fell apart. After the fallout with Caelum in the apothecary, it was a comfort to know that Leo was still on her side.

“Thanks,” she said into his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath before pushing herself away from him. Leo let her go, his hazel eyes warm.

“I’m here for you lass, however and whenever you need me.”

“Well, right now I need to get home before my time runs out.” She didn’t want to give her father any reason to revoke future apothecary visits.

Leo nodded, falling in step beside her as she began walking. “You know, my ears won’t like that you’ve changed shoes.”

Harry gave a long sigh, looking down at the trainers covering her feet. They felt so _wrong_. Too light, the fabric scarcely able to handle spilled tea, let alone any potential potion incidents. “My boots suffered a tragic accident, and will long be remembered for their diligent service.”

“My ears will mourn them.” Leo said solemnly, and she looked up to see him frowning at her trainers. “Those don’t look right at all.”

She nodded, wishing she’d had time to look at another style of brewing boot on this outing. As much as she loved her boots, she couldn’t afford to get the same style and color that Rigel had had. “I was thinking of trying another style of this time. Or perhaps getting them in another color. What do you think: dark brown, black with green laces, or hot pink with gold laces?”

Leo laughed. “Not the last one, or you’d make it too easy for them.”

When they reached the entryway to Diagon Alley, and Leo paused and motioned her to the side. She felt him put up privacy and notice-me-not charms, before pulling out a leather journal. It was a dark smoky gray, with a cauldron burned in the center. Opening it, she found familiar potion recipes in her own handwriting. When she looked back up at Leo and tilted her head, he spoke.

“Your recipes for Krait, including the revised love potion.” She scrunched her nose at that, remembering the chimera eyes that had destabilized the potion. Archie still couldn’t know about that incident. “But if you write _Dear pen pal_ on a blank page, it’ll activate a protean charm that will copy your message into this journal’s twin. Sign off with _Your terrible pen pal_ to deactivate the protean charm and hide the message.” He tapped the cauldron on the cover. “If you pick up the journal and see a wisp of smoke emanate from the cauldron, that means you have a message waiting from the second protean charm. Go to a blank page and write _Pen pal post_ to reveal the new message, and vanish it by writing _Post_ _received._ ”

Harry tucked the journal into her bag of ingredients. “Decided you don’t want to want on owl post anymore?”

“How many of my letters have you gotten in the last month?” Leo asked, lifting a brow as he leaned back.

“My father’s been collecting the post.”

“So, not a single one.” Leo gave a great sigh and shook his head, dropping the privacy and notice-me-not charms. “Breaks my heart, knowing your father doesn’t trust our friendship.”

“In his defense, he doesn’t trust any boy to be my friend, except Archie.” Though even Archie was finding that trust to be strained, with the partial ruse reveal still so fresh. “I better get going, or he’ll confiscate my cauldrons.”

“Now, we don’t want that to happen!” Leo waved her off with a laugh, and she headed through the entryway to the Leaky Cauldron. As Harry made her way to the Floo, she couldn’t help but notice an agitation in the patrons that hadn’t been there earlier. She passed a table, and the woman there slammed a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ down. “They invite him back, just like that!” The woman shook her head angrily, then picked up the newspaper once again. “Politicians...”

She glanced around at the other patrons, noting the slim newspapers they all held. Had there been another special edition? Seeing as no Aurors had arrived to arrest her, perhaps the press had moved on to something more important— like finding Voldemort.

With that hopeful thought, Harry flooed home. When she was spat out, Harry looked up to see her father’s wand pointed at her. She kept still, reminded of the summer before second year when they’d had another moment just like this the night the Dancing Dragon burned.

“Pretty sure it hasn’t been an hour yet, Dad.” She’d gotten back with ten minutes to spare, according to the clock on the wall. James didn’t lower his wand.

“What reason did you give me and Sirius for the lab alarm going off in the summer of ‘92?” He asked, voice cool. Harry tilted her head and frowned.

“I told you and _Remus_ that it was the chimera eyes, and that I didn’t know enough about the potion to recognize an error in the recipe.”

James lowered his wand with a shakily laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry Fawn, but I had to check.”

“What, that Rigel hadn’t taken my place?” She asked, forcing a natural-sounding laugh at the thought of Rigel pretending to be Harry. As if a boy on the run would be crazy enough to try hiding underneath the Head Auror’s nose. Her laugh stuttered out when she noticed her father’s face. _He hasn’t figured it out, has he?_

James picked up a copy of the _Prophet_ and handed it to her. “I had to be sure.”

_**Hidden Halfblood Hailed Homeward: Closing Ceremony To Crown Champions Called!** _

_In a surprise press conference this morning, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and SOW Party leader Lord Riddle announced a prize ceremony for the Blood Representatives and Blood Champion of the True Triwirzard Tournament._

_Champions Jacob Owens, Fleur Delacour, and the infamous Rigel Black Child are required to attend the event to receive their prizes. My readers might ask: why have Mr. Owens and Ms. Delacour yet to receive their rightfully earned rewards from the tournament? It seems that in the chaos of the last task, the closing ceremony wherein their prizes were to be received was forgotten. And as the hunt for the RBC commenced, the world forgot about the others who had braved the maze._

_At least, the tournament officials forgot about them._

_In the case of Ms. Delacour, the French have been in an uproar over the events of the final task and in the “mockery of blood” which led to Ms. Delacour competing as a technical halfblood against a pureblood champion who has since been charged with blood identity theft. Some have argued that in light of the RBC being a halfblood, a special exemption to the tournament guidelines should be given to Ms. Delacour in regards to her technical blood status, so that the final task will have had a pureblood competing._

_As for Mr. Owens, the American muggleborn has been sighted occasionally in Diagon Alley, apparently enjoying a vacation before he pursues a career in International Relations._

_Now, one might ask why the RBC would attend a prize ceremony for the very tournament which unraveled his ruse? Lord Riddle had this response: “Rigel has always competed to his best ability in all tasks required of a champion. I doubt he would shy away from this one.”_

_Minister Fudge seems to agree: “If the Rigel Black Child comes, he has my word that he will not be arrested during the ceremony.”_

_The prize ceremony is to be held in two weeks, in the Ministry Atrium, at 10AM._

_Each champion is expected give a speech, pose for photos, and collect their prizes._

Harry stared blankly at the newspaper clenched in her hands, a picture of Tom Riddle standing next to the Minister gracing the top of the page. The monochromatic Riddle smirked at her, as if pleased by her frustration. He couldn’t do this. The tournament was _over,_ he couldn’t just make up another task and expect her to come running.

 _No,_ she thought vehemently at the picture, _I don’t have to play your game anymore, Riddle._

A rapid simmering in her veins made her want to tear the newspaper apart. The Vow was back, getting hotter with each moment she fought against acknowledging the article’s summons. She could feel Dom’s growing alarm, and her father was watching for her reaction to the article. She would not play Riddle’s game, but Harry also couldn’t let allow a prize ceremony to be the task that killed her.

If that meant being Rigel one last time, then so be it.

Her blood cooled to being just uncomfortably warm, as if the Vow didn’t quite believe her intentions.

“Will the Aurors actually let Rigel take part in the ceremony?” Harry asked, looking up at her father.

“If he makes it to whatever stage they set up, we’ll have to.” James grimaced and shook his head. “If we don’t, the press will call the Minister a liar. This is a way for the Ministry to show that we’re doing _something_ , that the impostor doesn’t have a Kiss on Sight order on him or whatever the latest hullabaloo is being reported.” He paused, then pointed at her with a stern look. “Do not talk to anyone who might be the impostor. In fact, I want a report of everything and everyone you came in contact with in the last hour.”

Harry took a breath and smiled at her dad. “All right, but can we sit down?”

Her dad blinked, looked at where she still stood before their Floo, and gave a slight smile of his own. “Yes, of course.” They moved to the chairs in the floo-room, then Harry spoke.

“After flooing to the Leaky Cauldron, I went straight to Tate’s. I spoke with Mr. Tate, and arranged to have most of my order delivered. When leaving the apothecary, I spoke briefly with Caelum—”

“Lestrange?” Her father’s face twisted in dislike. She frowned, then continued.

“— and we had a disagreement about potions. I left, and ran into Leo—”

“Hurst?” Now he looked about ready to stun someone. “Were they just staking out the apothecary for you to appear?”

“—and we talked about some of the alley kids as he walked me back to the Leaky. I flooed home, and here we are.” Harry decided it was better if she didn’t mention crying in Leo’s shoulder, even if she could falsely hint at it being Caelum’s fault. She didn’t think James would ever let her out of the house again if he thought boys were in any way causing or comforting her tears.

“Okay, no more trips to the apothecary, or anywhere else, for two weeks.” James said, and she stiffened.

“What, why? I was home before the hour ended.”

“Because Rigel Whoever-he-is, if he’s crazy enough to come back to Britain for his prizes from the tournament, might try and contact you or Archie.” He father said slowly, meeting her gaze with intense focus. “If, somehow, he does manage to contact you, _do not respond_. Neither you nor Archie can afford to have anyone even _think_ that you helped Rigel, should he show up. Promise me you’ll keep out of trouble for the next two weeks, Fawn.”

With the warmth of the Vow itching like a sunburn beneath her skin, Harry held her father’s gaze and lied. “I promise.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m attempting to keep these chapters of a similar length and update fairly regularly, so that this fic will be completed in a timely manner. Despite having an outline, I am a pantser for the most part, so I apologize if we get sidetracked by any subplots in the near future...

[HpHpHp]

Once in the relative safety of her potions lab, Harry set her bag of ingredients on the nearest workspace, grabbed a stool, and dove into her mindscape. The stinging sand scarcely brushed her face before Dom brought her to the pyramid.

“What happened?” Dom asked as he left the sphinxes to join her at the top of the stairs. Harry sat on the stairs and looked out over the city he’d built in her mind. There were things moving through the streets, though she couldn’t tell what they were from here.

“Riddle is having a prize ceremony for Fleur, Owens, and Rigel. It’s in two weeks, and Harry’s not allowed to go anywhere during those weeks so she can’t be accused of helping Rigel when he shows up to claim his prizes. Which Rigel has to do: because Riddle made sure that everyone knows this ceremony was _supposed_ to happen after the last task, that the three Blood Representatives are required to attend, and that they have expected duties to fulfill at the ceremony. He even quoted part of the Unbreakable Vow when asked why Rigel would risk coming!” Harry shook her head and glared down at the city. “The Vow woke when I tried to deny what Riddle had done. It thinks this little _ceremony_ counts as a tournament task, so now Rigel has to sneak into the Ministry Atrium, put on a show, and escape without being caught. All while Harry and Archie will likely be watched by our family so they can be sure we aren’t helping Rigel. Or to make sure _Harry_ isn’t Rigel.” Even after a month, she was worried that someone in her family would find the piece of the puzzle that would shatter what remained of the ruse. Her bet was on Remus, while Archie insisted that whoever listened to Addy would win.

“Okay, ignoring how you described yourself as two separate people, let’s figure out your plan.” Dom gave the sandy stairs a look before he sat next to her, a clipboard appearing in his hand. “What are our resources?”

“I got to go to the apothecary before the news came, so we have an order of potion ingredients coming. Leo knows I’m Rigel, and gave me a journal linked with dual protean charms to one he has, so we could contact him for anything we don’t have.”

Dom scribbled something on the clipboard. “That means we have a third body to use. Could he acquire some Polyjuice potion?”

“Possibly. I wish my dad hadn’t taken all my lacewing flies.” Part of her had been surprised he’d remembered not only what they looked like, but that the flies were a necessary ingredient in brewing Polyjuice. Then again, he was an Auror. “It’s not as though I had any reason to brew a batch of Polyjuice this summer.”

“You don’t need a reason to brew.” Dom said as he pointed a gold-edged quill at her. “You pillaged the pantry for ingredients to brew _tea_ , then meticulously labeled each preserved ‘dose’ and arranged them in alphabetical order on a shelf in your lab because you were running low on actual potion ingredients.”

Harry blinked, then frowned at Dom. “Did you get into my space room?” How else could he have known what she’d done with all the tea she’d been brewing? His perception of the physical world wasn’t that precise.

Dom shifted on the stairs, then offered a somewhat guilty grin. “In the process of repairing the scars left on your mindscape from the enemy construct’s Legilimency attack, I found which portion of your mind is connected to your sight. I can’t affect your vision, but I can use that connection to see what you see.”

“And you used this newfound sight to watch me brew tea.” She raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“You provided enough varieties to fill a tearoom, which we now have.” He pointed down at the city, at an area near the base of the stairs to the pyramid. “But more importantly, being able to see through your eyes means I’ll be better able to help you, which helps me protect your mind.”

“We’ll come back to this after we’ve figured out how to fulfill the Vow without exposing the remainder of the ruse.”

“Have you spoken with your cousin yet?” Dom asked, and Harry shook her head.

“It’ll be hard to properly plot with Archie without raising suspicions, but we can trust that he’ll help however he can.” She could always rely on Archie. Thinking of him, Harry remembered something important. “Oh! He has a pair of my boots!” Dom gave a groan and glared down at her feet. Even in her mind, she was wearing her boots.

“Is that really important right now?”

“Yes, because Rigel is always wearing his brewing boots.” She smiled. Sure, that pair was old enough that the sizing charm had faded, but they were a vital piece of the Rigel persona.

“Fine, they’re on the list.” Dom grumbled, scratching something onto his clipboard. “Do you have any blended hairs prepared?”

“I have the hairs for what would’ve been the next Modified Polyjuice, blending them won’t be difficult.”

“What if you can’t get any Polyjuice?”

“Master Thompson once mentioned interest in an imbued glamour. I could work on that as a backup, as any Polyjuice Leo gets will be the regular kind.” Harry said, and wondered how long the ceremony would be. If it was over an hour, then she’d need a way to refresh her Polyjuice. An annoying thought, but she only had herself to blame for the knowledge that there was a longer lasting form of Polyjuice.

“So we have potential ways for Rigel to return. What about getting away from your family and to the Ministry?”

“If we could get Leo in to pose as Harry, then I could use the way he got in to get out. But if he’s to be me, then we have to destroy Remus’s nose.” She said, then paused and rephrased. “Meaning, we have to make Leo smell like Harry.”

“Like a sewer?” Dom smirked.

“It’s the essence of potions.” There were worse things you could smell like. An actual sewer, for instance. “It’ll have to be a potion, as Remus will be watching for Archie or I to be overly sweaty.” It couldn’t be a prank, because their family will likely be suspicious of any pranks pulled in the next two weeks.

“And getting into the Ministry?”

“There will probably be some French and even a few American reporters there, to support their champions. Leo once asked if I needed papers to flee the country— I wonder if he has any I could use to sneak in instead?” She’d have to ask him, along with explaining about the Vow. She was lucky that Leo knew about the ruse now, otherwise she’d be in even more trouble. She and Archie were limited by their family’s over-protectiveness at the moment.

“You would be better at faking a French accent than an American one.” Dom said, shifting his clipboard when she tried to see what he was writing. “”What kind of security does the Ministry have?”

“Anti-portkey and anti-disapparition wards in all but a select few areas. The Atrium has the visitor’s entrance and both the incoming and outgoing Floos. They have a way of closing off the Floo access quickly, and I don’t think you can use the visitor’s entrance to leave. You need to pass through a security gate to get to the lifts leading deeper into the Ministry, which involves showing them your wand. I expect they’ll shut down all ways in and out of the Ministry as soon as they confirm Rigel is there.” She did not want to end up trapped within someone else’s wards again, no matter how large the area. Looking at Dom, she remembered how Pettigrew had been able to use the Dominion Jewel’s power through the protection potion, and how Dom had slipped through her shield spell like it didn’t exist back when he was still a physical rock.

“How could you go though shields back when you were still a jewel?” She asked. Dom tilted his head back and gave a long sigh, a wistful smile on his face.

“Ah, I’d had so much _power_ then. My aura was _magnificent_. The magic I absorbed was distinctly _mine_ , and interacted with the world in a different way than when it had belonged to a wizard.” Dom set down his quill and lifted his hand palm up. Fierce concentration filled his face for a full minute. Then, the air above his hand begin to shimmer, a familiar heat emanating from the hazy mirage that formed. Harry stared at the familiar heat wave Dom had summoned. She doubted she’d ever forget what the Dominion Jewel felt like. It was an aura she hadn’t felt since Dom had shed his physical form. She didn’t know he could still feel _like that_.

“I sacrificed a good portion of my accumulated magic in destroying my physical form in order to bond with you. What I have left isn’t much, but perhaps if we filtered some of your magic through me, it could be blended with the dregs of my aura to form an anti-shield shield.” Dom frowned as he closed his hand over the heat wave, immediately dismissing his aura as he turned to look at her. “Your naming conventions are infecting me.”

“Would this anti-shield... _aura_ work with on anti-disapparition wards?” Harry asked. If it did, then she would have her escape from the Ministry. All it would cost was letting Dom eat some of her magic. “And would this blending be permanent?”

“I don’t know, we would need to practice to discover the limitations. But yes, the blending would be permanent.” Dom answered, making another note on his clipboard. “Take a day or two to think about it. Contact your co-conspirators, get started on whatever potions you feel necessary for this task, and we’ll come back to this idea later.”

Harry stood, and offered Dom a hand up. “Thanks, Dom.” She meant it. He had changed since last summer— no longer the annoying rock that gave her headaches while she brewed, Dom was now a trusted friend.

“Ah, don’t get soppy on me now, Harriett.” Dom smirked as he took her offered hand. “I’m still a megalomaniacal rock, I’m just content for the moment to be your magical advisor. You get into the most interesting situations.”

Harry laughed, then concentrated on summoning certain memories from her space room. The orbs appeared in the air, spinning around them like content moons. “I’ll keep that in mind. Meanwhile, here are some memories you can study at your leisure.”

“Oh?” Dom looked at the orbs, a hungry glint in his eye. “What are these?”

“My memories of what each brewed tea I’ve made in the past month tastes like. For your tearoom.”

Dom grinned. “We simply must meet over a nice cup of tea next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dom’s Clipboard Notes (incomplete)**  
>  \- Riddle’s fault. No surprise.  
> \- _Potions._ Not a Harriett plot until you have _potions._  
>  \- Alley King hopes knowing secrets means Harriett will be a better pen pal. Use as post owl for supplies.  
> \- ~~Boots. Leather secretly soaked in love potion?~~  
>  \- Imbued glamour VS Polyjuice?  
> \- ~~Destroy~~ _Trick_ werewolf’s nose via _potions._ Alley King to smell like sewer.  
> \- Alias via Alley King. French Rigel?  
> \- ~~Restore my aura to~~ Help Harriett ~~control~~ influence ~~others~~ shields and wards through use of my old aura.  
> \- ~~Truly feast on a tidbit of Harriett’s exquisite magic.~~ Protect Harriett, by sacrificing part of the Sycophant.  
> \- _Perfect tea for_ Potter’s Pretend Potions. _Host Harriett in more comfortable spot than the pyramid’s stairs._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember what I said about keeping the chapters a similar length?  
> This is the chapter where that gets thrown out the window, apparently. I thought for sure it would take two or three more before that happened...  
> Could I have broken this up into a couple of chapters? _Probably._ Would that have allowed the next chapter to start (and hopefully end) where I want it to? _Nope._  
>  Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

[AbAbAb]

Archie’s day had been going well. He’d gotten another letter from Hermione: stuffed with a study schedule from now until he was due to complete the placement tests AIM insisted he take in his own name if he want to return to complete his schooling in the Healing track, along with her notes on all the subjects she thought were his weakest and thus a priority in reviewing. His dad’s rules for today included _no being human in the halls,_ so Archie had learned how to open doors as a fox. That would come in handy one day, even if it were just for a prank. He’d finished his studying for the day, even adding in Hermione’s recommendations, so now he was lounging in a wonderfully comfortable armchair near the back of the Black library, skimming through an old healing journal.

He heard the library door open, and his dad shout, “Arch, you in here?”

“In the back!” Archie called, closing the healing journal before stretching in his seat. Sirius appeared around a bookshelf just as Archie stood. “What’s up?”

Sirius waved a slim copy of the _Prophet_ and rolled his eyes. “The Ministry and Riddle are having a reward ceremony in a couple weeks to try and draw Rigel out of hiding.”

Archie fought against the urge to freeze, forcing a laugh instead. “They think that’ll work?”

“Apparently. They even promised not to arrest him _during_ the ceremony.”

“Yes, yes, here are your prizes,” Archie began, morphing his face and voice into a semblance of the Minister’s, “now that the ceremony is over, would you mind following these Aurors to your cell? Wonderful!” Sirius gave a bark of a laugh, and Archie grinned as he let his face revert to normal. _Make it seem like a joke,_ he thought. _Don’t let your worry show._

He needed to talk to Harry. If Riddle was involved in this ceremony, was it something they needed to worry about? Never mind, anything that involved both Riddle and Harry was obviously something to worry about.

“That’s exactly what they’re hoping to do, I bet. That, or catch him before the ceremony officially begins.” Sirius said. He tapped the newspaper and straightened as he put on a decidedly _serious_ look. “Now, James has probably given Harry a speech about how neither of you can afford to get caught helping Rigel. I’m sure you can get the highlights from her later, when you both try to disappear for a period of parental free conversation.” Archie was grateful his metamorphism kept his face from paling at his father’s accuracy.

“You can pretend I gave you one too. Blah blah, no contacting Rigel, et cetera. What I really want to say is: _don’t get caught_. Rigel survived four rough years at Hogwarts, years I thought _you_ had survived. What you kids did wasn’t good on multiple fronts, but I owe Rigel for inadvertently protecting you from those dangers.” Sirius gave a small chuckle and smiled. “In fact, if he does contact you, tell Rigel the Head of House Black says he can keep the name. If somehow he gets a pardon, he can even join the family. Reggie will _love_ that.”

Archie stared at his dad, not sure if he should be shocked or relieved. He decided to be focus on the funny instead. “You’re giving him _my name_?”

“Your _middle_ name. Whoever Rigel is, he can claim the name Rigel Black as his own.” Sirius tapped the newspaper against his chin, contemplation clouding his face. “If we can adopt him officially into the family, he might want to add a middle name or two. I’ll leave that up to him.” Shaking like his animagus form would after getting wet, Sirius grinned and hooked an arm around Archie’s shoulders. “Now come on, we’re going to Potter Place. No telling James about your future brother, all right? He’s not in any position to appreciate the acquisition of another prankster to the next generation of Marauders just yet.”

Archie laughed. He was glad his dad had figured out how he was feeling now that the ruse was “over”. He hadn’t expected an offer to adopt Rigel into the family, but it was the kind of chaos Sirius loved. A halfblood hoodwinking the purebloods, protecting someone Sirius loved, and pranking not only Wizarding Britain, but the whole world. All in one prank. Of course Rigel was Black material. That Rigel was Harry only made the situation a bittersweet sort of funny to Archie.

If their family ever found out Rigel was Harry, they’d never let her out of her lab again. Bad things were drawn to Harry, and Archie was sure this ceremony would turn out to be bad for her. He’d just have to do what he could to help her prepare.

[LhLhLh]

The fact that the journal in his pocket warmed only hours after he’d given Harry hers shouldn’t have been so concerning. Perhaps she’d finally decided to be a good correspondent.

No. That couldn’t be it. This was _Harry_.

Leo slipped away from his table at the Dancing Phoenix, nodding to Solom as he headed up the stairs to his seldom used office. Leo preferred to be out and about, helping his people with their problems. Plus, leaving written documents lying around for any Auror to find during a surprise inspection was a fool’s play. Leo had a much better system for the necessary paperwork of being the King of Thieves. Not that he’d tell anyone what or where that system was. Not unless they beat him for the crown.

His office was dusty. _Good._ A check proved that none of his traps had been sprung. Waving his wand with a muttered cleaning charm, Leo sat in the now dust free chair and kicked his feet up onto the desk, then coughed at the dust that action stirred up. Pulling the little leather journal from his pocket, he snagged a self-inking quill from the desk drawer. Writing the retrieval code, he waited as Harry’s message appeared.

_Dear pen pal,_

_Have you seen the special edition of the_ Daily Prophet _yet? Our friend was mentioned in it, and I know he could use some help in preparing for this latest task. He’s_ _Unfortunately_ _Vowed to do his best, and so simply must attend the event mentioned._

_In another show of misfortune_ _, our friend has misplaced his wand and reporting equipment. How can he come from France for this event if he can’t find those?_ _As one from the continent, he is also unfamiliar with our Ministry. What identification would_ _he_ _need to come to this event as a reporter?_

_If you know of any convenient source of_ _juice for parrots, Polly has been asking for some to dip all those crackers_ _you sent_ _in._

_Your terrible pen pal_

Leo leaned back in his chair, tapping the feathery end of the quill against the journal. He had seen the special edition, and felt relieved that Harry wouldn’t have to go anywhere near that mess. Only, it seemed she had to. If he understood her code – and how much trust did she have for anyone, if she put a message only one person could access in code? – there was an Unbreakable Vow involved.

So she had to go, and wanted help sneaking in as a French reporter. He could do that. He already had documents for a few different French aliases, and he knew just the one to send her. It even had a wand connected to it, though he hoped she didn’t need to use it for anything other than proving the identity. Reporting equipment: quills, a notebook over parchment in this case, and a camera. Easy enough. It would take a few days to get the alias a pass for the event, but that would make it more believable that the reporter was a Frenchman.

Should he be worried that she was asking for Polyjuice? _No, she likely just hasn’t had an opportunity to make any,_ Leo thought. He had a stash of it, and knew others in the Lower Alleys who did as well. _Krait. Rispah._ It wasn’t uncommon to keep some on hand.

Nodding to himself, Leo scribbled out his reply on a blank page.

_My terrible pen pal,_

_I have seen the special edition. It’ll be an exciting event, especially with our friend attending._

_I know just the items he’s missing. How could I not, when he forgot them the last time he visited? I will send them on to you, as I’m sure you’ll see our friend before I do. His press pass will take a little longer, with all the hoops the Ministry makes you jump through to get those. At least I have his wand already, and so can send in the registration paperwork th_ _at_ _requires it._

_Polly will be happy to know I have her favorite drink in stock. I’ll send some with our friend’s forgotten items. Speaking of our favorite parrot, will you need someone to watch her when you go on your next trip? I know she gets lonely when left at home, and would hate for her to miss you during that time._

_Your_ _friendly pen pal_

Message sent, Leo took a moment to memorize each and write out the list of items to collect before clearing them. He stood and stuck both journal and quill in his pocket. He still didn’t know the story of how Harry became the Rigel Black known at Hogwarts, but what he’d pieced together explained some of the oddities about her. He was looking forward to hearing the whole story one day, but for now was simply glad that she was letting him help her at last.

[HpHpHp]

When Archie dragged her into the Potter library to “study transfigurations” after dinner, Harry was certain Sirius had _winked_. She wasn’t sure why, but it had her uneasy. What did he know? _Did_ he know anything? Or was her paranoia simply trying to find something other than the ceremony to fret about?

Archie closed the library door, and twirled a raised finger in a circle. Harry breathed in, and on the exhale let her magic flow out to encompass them in a privacy charm centered on her. If their family came in, all they would hear was a muffled conversation about linked transfigurations. A nice sixth year topic she had shared with Archie after using it in second year. A bit of her magic latched onto the door, ready to alert her next time it opened. “Okay, we’re good.”

Archie led them deeper into the library, and Harry summoned a few books on transfiguration and scattered them on the table they sat at. “You read the article?”

“I had to morph into the Minister to joke about it, when Dad told me about the promise not to arrest Rigel. But I read it myself before we flooed over. Do you have to go?” Archie asked, leaning on his elbows as he opened one of the books to a random page.

“The Vow decided this counts as a task, so I have to.” She snagged a loose piece of blank parchment from a pile and stuck a finger on it. Sending her magic down to the parchment, she used the Psychic Transcription Charm to quickly write some transfiguration notes before passing it to Archie. “Leo knows. He’s gathering supplies for my alias to sneak into the Ministry, and is willing to pose as Harry here during the time Rigel has to be at the ceremony. You’ll need to help distract the family from noticing anything uncharacteristic about Harry, along with making sure they don’t notice when he has to refresh his Polyjuice. I’m thinking of filling some sweets with it, so you may need to eat one that’s been deliberately pranked to keep our family from stealing any.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this already.” Archie said, passing her a quill and ink.

“I have to. Two weeks doesn’t provide time to dally when one has to break into and out of the Ministry.”

“Have you thought about that at all? Breaking out?” Archie asked, worry clear on his face.

“Dom has an idea, but I’m going to search for another viable solution before trying it.”

“Dom?” Archie lifted an eyebrow, and Harry realized she’d never updated him on how the rock trapped in her mind was doing.

_Because I’m_ so _forgettable,_ Dom sighed dramatically.

“The Dominion Jewel. His name is Dom, and he’s my magical advisor.” Harry smiled, making sure to send warm fuzzy thoughts at Dom. Archie gave her a skeptical look.

“What was his idea?”

“If we blend some of my magic with his aura, then I might be able to create a shield that would allow me to go through other shields.” It was an intriguing idea, if it didn’t mean sacrificing some of her magic. Would she be able to control the blended magic, or would it only answer to Dom? It was his aura that her magic would be blending with, so it stood to reason that it would answer to him.

“Is that a _good_ idea?”

“Do I have the time to properly research portkeys or disapparition and the ways to block them, find a way around blocking them, and learn how to do it? On top of the other preparations I have to make?” Harry shook her head. “I’ll spend a day or two looking into other options, but I also have to think about after I get out. If I break the anti-disapparition ward, will I have enough energy left to lose the Aurors in the ensuing chase? With Dom’s anti-shield aura, they’ll have to take the ward down themselves, which gives me a head start.”

Archie rubbed his head. “Looked at that way, I suppose it comes down to whether you trust Dom enough to give him more power, rather than which method would work better. If his idea will even work.”

“I trust him.” Harry said. It might not be wise, to trust an ancient sentient rock that still had world domination as a goal even when trapped in her mind, but she did.

_Brrrrrt!_ Dom blew a raspberry, the memory of a too sweet tea accompanying the noise.

Harry gave a soft laugh, and waved her hand at Archie’s confused look. “Just laughing at the voice in my head.”

“I’m not sure whether you need a mind healer, or need to _never_ see one.”

“There’s enough people in my head, I don’t want any visitors.” Nothing good ever came from people getting into her mind. Well, nothing but Dom.

_The stress has finally broken your mind. I’ll be sure to send flowers,_ Dom sounded so mournful.

“Well, it seems you have the start of a plan. Do you need any more hair?” Archie asked, his hair shifting like a kaleidoscope of colors.

“Always,” Harry pulled a vial from her robe pocket, and Archie laughed before plucking a few hairs. When the vial was safely back in her pocket, Archie snapped his fingers.

“Oh, Dad had a message for Rigel, if he somehow contacted me.”

“Serpensortia,” Harry pointed her finger at the table and a young grass snake appeared.

“ _Who callsss?_ ” The snake hissed, looking between Harry and Archie as it coiled defensively.

“ _I do._ ” Harry told the snake before pointing at Archie. “ _Lisssten to hisss wordsss._ ” As the snake uncoiled slightly and looked at Archie, Harry turned to him. “Okay, tell this unfamiliar snake that Rigel _must_ have sent what Sirius said.”

Archie laughed, then met the snake’s gaze. “The Head of House Black says you can keep the name Rigel Black. If you get pardoned, he will even officially adopt you into the family, so think about what you want as your middle name.”

The snake waited a moment, then turned to Harry. “ _What did the One Who Sssmellsss Like Fox sssay?_ ”

“ _He had a messsage for me, but had to give it to you in order to protect hisss nessst._ ”

“ _Protecting onesss nessst is important. May I return to mine now?_ ” The snake asked, and Harry nodded. One counter-charm and the snake was gone.

“So, Rigel is an unofficial Black now?” Harry turned to Archie with a smirk. “Should I change who my favorite cousin is? Rigel appreciates potions much more than you do.”

“Oh, the agony of knowing that even my own cousin prefers Rigel over me.” Archie draped an arm over his head and slumped onto the table. “At least Hermione still loves me.”

“Yes, enough to send you a Howler.” Harry nudged Archie, and he groaned.

“It was wonderful, just like her. Too bad you can’t just send a Howler to the Minister for your speech.”

Harry laughed, then paused. _Perhaps... Dom?_

_I see what you’re thinking, kid. Might be fun, if we can get it to work,_ Dom responded, glee coating each word.

A twinge from the magic she’d left on the door alerted that someone else was in the library. “Time’s up,” she told Archie, who just grumbled into the table. Harry called back her magic, canceling the privacy charm at the same time. Picking up the open book, she closed it with a yawn and set it on the stack of other books. “I think that’s enough transfiguration. Any more, and I think the table will eat you.”

“Let it. I’m never going to use linked transfigurations anyway.” Archie groaned just as Sirius appeared. He looked at them, and Harry was certain she saw a knowing glint in his eye.

“That’s enough studying for one night, kiddos. Too many books will turn your brain to jelly.” Sirius said, coming closer to ruffle Archie’s hair.

“Pretty sure that’s the jelly-brain jinx, not books.” Harry said, twisting her wistful smile so it seemed more thoughtful.

“Books just do it slower, so you don’t notice the jelly until it seeps out the ears.” Sirius replied, leaning forward to look in Archie’s ear. “See, if you look closely, Archie’s brain has already turned purple. I’m guessing it’s plum.”

“Tasty,” Harry said as she stood, “shall we go get some toast to spread it on?”

“Just save enough so I can pass my placement tests.” Archie moaned, limply allowing Sirius to pull him out of the chair.

“No promises.” Sirius barked a laugh as he herded them out of the library.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wordcount floodgates were opened last chapter, and thus this beast was born.  
> It would've been out sooner, but the allure of research is worse than that of a Veela.  
> We didn't get to the end I wanted for this chapter, but that's because it is a beast, and so some things were moved to the next one.  
> ( _Outline 6.3_ , please stop letting characters add in cool ideas. This was meant to be a _short_ and _silly_ one-shot!)

[HpHpHp]

Over the next three days, Harry got many, _many_ packages. Five the first day, with vials and bottles along with ingredients. Her father had carefully inspected each one before giving it to her, his face turning greener with each preserved jar of newt eyes, horned slugs, or adder tongues. On the second day, she got five more packages. Again, James inspected the boxes before handing them over. But when she got five _more_ packages from Tate’s on the third day, he set them on the table unopened and gave her a stern look.

“Did you buy out the entire apothecary?”

“No, actually. I didn’t get any lacewing flies.” Harry said, offering one of Rispah’s innocent smiles that she’d practiced with her new face.

_True face,_ Dom muttered to her with a note of irritation.

“Oh, so you got everything but those? Good to know.” James shook his head, and opened the boxes. He barely gave the contents more than a glance before passing them over to her with a shiver. “Hopefully I won’t remember some of those ingredients next time I have to take a potion.”

Taking care of her plate as her father sorted the rest of the post, she started carrying the boxes to the lab. Once they were all on an empty station, she pulled out the journal from Leo and smiled at the smoke that rose from the cauldron. Flipping to an empty page, she wrote the retrieval phase.

_My terrible pen pal,_

_You should’ve gotten some packages from Tate’s today. In the box with the chameleon skin, you may find that the narrow side nearest the gins_ _eng_ _has_ _a peculiar knot near the bottom left corner. Give it two slow taps, followed by three quick ones. You’ll find our friend’s_ _missing items, along with_ _h_ _is wand and press pass. I_ _also includ_ _ed_ _a_ _nice picture of our friend that I just had to share._

_I hope Polly enjoys her gift as well, though be sure to let me know if she needs more._

_Your friendly pen pal_

She went through the boxes, putting ingredients away until she found the box with the chameleon skin and ginseng. After emptying it, she tapped the knot in the wood as instructed, then watched as that side of the box split in the center and the two halves swung open to reveal a pocket of space at least the same size as the box itself. From within the expanded space she pulled out a fancy-looking notebook with the title C _arnet de_ _N_ _otes_ _N_ _otabl_ _es_ , a packages of various types of quills (from Self-Inking to Quick Quotes, and a few more in-between), and a camera which proudly proclaimed itself to be _Cameron’s Coughing Camera: Wizarding Photos in a Hack!_ Then came familiar vials of Polyjuice, which she quickly stored in an undetectable extended pocket she’d made in the back of the shelf where she’d arranged her tea collection. Last to come was a press pass for one _Romeo Blanchard— Vigne du Soir_ , a picture connected to a vial of hairs, and a wand box.

Opening the box, she noted that the wand was made of ash and about twelve inches long. Picking it up, she let her magic investigate. The wand warmed somewhat, but no sparks appeared when she gave it a wave. Her magic poked at the wand, and gave her a disgruntled _thrum_. She looked at the little paper in the wand box, which listed the core as unicorn hair. Then she looked back at the wand, and gave a soft chuckle. “After years apart, we’re brought back together by the alleys.”

Sticking the wand and all of the reporting supplies in the hidden compartment of her potions kit, she looked at the picture of Romeo Blanchard. Dark brown hair framed a rectangular face with the slightest hint of stubble, wherein two deep set blue eyes peered out over a grecian nose. The man appeared to be in his early thirties, and was obviously a muggle by the way he was dressed. She labeled the vial of hairs _R._ _Blanchard_ and stuck them into her collection, while the photo was put in the journal so she could perfect the glamour later tonight.

With everything put away, Harry set up her cauldrons for the day. She been experimenting with a glamour potion base, and had narrowed down the signifying ingredient to either chameleon skin or a lunar hornet moth. She would imbue these with Rigel’s form from the last Polyjuice, and compare the results to see which worked best. It wasn’t yet what she’d call a true glamour potion, as her magical awareness and the instincts she’d earned learning to freebrew made her believe that this was merely the first stage, made acceptable through the use of shaped imbuing. It felt similar to Polyjuice, as though it needed much more time to be perfect. But so long as it allowed her a glamour that couldn’t be dismissed with a single spell, Harry was willing to accept the water-down version. She’d have time to perfect it after the ceremony.

The glamour-breaker potion was far simpler, with a white chrysanthemum as the signifying ingredient. Along with the three shaped imbued potions, she set up two more cauldrons to brew a Calming Draught and Pepper-up Potion on the stations closest to the door.

As she fell into the familiar rhythm of brewing, Harry thought about her lack of progress on finding a better escape strategy. The Potter library had yielded nothing on spells to break an anti-disapparition ward, and Archie had reported similar luck on searching the Black library. She’d debated the worth of searching her father’s office for information, but decided against it due to him still working from home. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Focusing back on the brewing, she let other thoughts fade for the moment. She had little time, but would enjoy the stolen joys she could spare from preparing for the ceremony.

After a morning of brewing, an afternoon of hiding her impatience with having to study information she already knew with Remus for her O.W.L.s, and a drawn-out dinner during which she and Archie were asked about how their studies were progressing, Harry was able to head up to her room. Throwing up a silencing spell to encompass the room, she set a piece of magic to monitor the door for anyone coming to check on her.

After changing into pyjamas, she sat on her bed, picked up the self-inking quill and a parchment from the stack at the foot of the bed. _Ready, Dom?_

_Go ahead,_ Dom responded, his presence in the forefront of her mind. She held a hand out to the quill, sending a combination of the Levitation Charm and the Psychic Transcription Charm to it. The quill floated up and began to write a list of potion ingredients. As the parchment filled with writing, she could feel a minor but steadily familiar headache forming. She’d come to associate this particular headache with when Dom was piggybacking on the senses she’d given him access to during the last few days. The quill paused when it reached the end of the parchment, and she sent a drying spell at the ink before turning the parchment over and setting the quill to writing again.

Three parchments later, the quill froze halfway through writing _bubotuber_ , the handwriting changing to striking calligraphy with plenty of flourishes. _Hello, Harriett._

“You found the connection, then?” Harry said aloud, and watched as the quill wrote Dom’s response.

_No, obviously the quill has malfunctioned. Shall I practice my lines, or dare we move on to the Howler?_

“Keep practicing, I need you able to do this while I’m casting other spells.” She was glad Dom had found the connection the Psychic Transcription Charm made in the caster’s mind, though part of her was a little uneasy at letting him have observational access to her senses and control over a spell. It was an understandable discomfort, when dealing with an ancient sentient rock who’d mummified his last holder. Harry hoped Ginny never found out what had become of Rigel’s mind guardian project. She’d probably do worse than fulfill her threat to poke Rigel’s eyes out.

The quill poked her, and Harry glanced down at the parchment and read, _Less_ _woolgathering_ _, more practicing._ Taking a moment to spread more sheets of parchment out, she kept the writing area at the edge of her glasses in case Dom needed a visual guide. She pulled the picture of _Romeo Blanchard_ out of the cauldron journal, and studied it until the man was as familiar to her as her own _true_ face. Transfiguring a spare quill into a full length mirror, she cast the glamour and stood. Romeo was short enough that the glamour wouldn’t move awkwardly over Rigel’s form, though over her own his stride seemed hesitant. The face was nice to look at, with lines around the mouth hinting that Romeo was prone to smiling. His eyebrows were so fine and elegant that even _Caelum_ wouldn’t have been able to find a fault in them. Turning before the mirror, she noted that she hadn’t gotten the ears right, and that the hair in the back was a little too wild compared to the front. Still, the overall shape of Romeo was similar enough to Rigel that she wouldn’t be completely awkward wearing it, but distinct enough that no one should immediately connect him with Rigel Black.

She practiced with Romeo’s glamour for a while, then pulled out the glamour potions she’d made earlier. She tested one and studied the results, then broke it with the glamour-breaker and tested the other. Out of the two, the lunar hornet gave a crisper, realistic glamour. The chameleon skin provided excellent color, but the over all features of the glamour were muddled. When she had the time to truly experiment, she would make a _real_ Glamour Potion, one which could stand equal to Polyjuice.

The quill poked her as she drank the second glamour-breaker. Turning back to the bed, she followed it to a parchment and read, _Have you made your decision?_

“You know I have,” she said as she looked at the parchments Dom had filled. “Did you want to keep any of these?” The quill darted over to one of the parchments, then over to another. Making sure the ink was dry, she picked them up. The first was a list, and she bit back a laugh. “We’ll experiment with tea combinations after the ceremony, when James finally lets me leave the house again.” The second parchment wasn’t filled with writing, but instead was a sketch of her true self standing before Dom’s pyramid, gazing with awe not at the exquisite craftsmanship surrounding her, but at the clunky boots on her feet. She smiled at the image, noting the familiar outline of a jewel down where the maker’s signature would be. Transfiguring the parchment where Dom had first greeted her into a frame, she placed the sketch in it and used a sticking charm to stick the frame next to the one holding the special edition potion periodical with Professor Snape’s New Wolfsbane.

_Don’t get sentimental, kid. We needed to know the limits of my control over this_ _technique_ _,_ Dom told her, but she could feel he was pleased by her response to the sketch.

Gathering the other used parchments, she took a moment to note just how lovely Dom’s calligraphy was. For someone who’d only had hands for a year, his handwriting was magnificent. She reversed the transfiguration on the mirror, then transfigured the quill into a cauldron. Once all the papers were within, she pointed a finger and cast a strong incendio. The parchment burst into flames, and she cast a continuous air freshening charm to clear the smoke until the pile was nothing but ashes. After that, she vanished both ashes and cauldron. Perhaps she could’ve simply vanished the parchments without turning them completely unreadable, but she didn’t want to risk anyone (namely her father) finding Dom’s writing. It had been mostly nonsensical ramblings, but she’d caught a few lines here and there about taking over the Potion’s Guild, Lower Alleys, or the Ministry.

_I’ll settle for two out of three,_ Dom whispered at the back of her mind. She rolled her eyes, turned off the light, and settled herself comfortably on the bed. If anyone checked in on her now, they’d think she was sleeping.

Once in her mindscape, Harry let Dom pluck her avatar from the sandstorm. An elegant tearoom greeted her, the décor a blend of potion’s lab and that of an Egyptian palace. Many of the hieroglyphs on the walls seemed to depict potion ingredients. There were two wooden tables: the first a low circular one-legged sycamore inlaid with topaz cauldrons and surrounded by comfortable cushions, while the other was ebony with four serpents as the legs and an inlay of silver and emeralds forming the Slytherin crest.

“That really belongs in the mountain layer.” Harry said as she sat in one of the matching chairs of the Slytherin table. Dom smiled as he lowered his teacup.

“Ah, but you can excuse it’s existence by your idolization of the Slytherin head of house. Or as an acknowledgment of your own ambitions and general sneakiness.” He motioned to the closest wall, and she stared at the hieroglyphs depicting Professor Snape brewing. Looking around, she spotted other hieroglyphs that appeared to be her, Archie, and Rigel scattered throughout the room, along with a few more of Snape brewing with her or Rigel. She let out a groan. There was even one of Caelum, and another of Leo and her friends from the Lower Alleys.

“At least tell me you put yourself somewhere in here.”

“Of course I did. Some of my favorite forms are scattered throughout the room.” Dom offered her a cup of tea. She took it, and gave a pleased sound at the taste. Between the memories and access to to her sense of taste, the quality of his teas had improved dramatically in the past few days. She savored the cup, then set it on the saucer and summoned a bit of magic from her core. It came purposefully.

Harry had taken time to talk to her magic during the last three days. Since the possibility of blending some of it permanently with Dom’s aura had been raised, she’d wanted to see how it felt about the idea. Her magic hadn’t forgotten the times Dom had consumed it, whether in whole or mere parts, and it was wary of surrendering part of itself to his influence. Only the fact that this sacrifice could potentially protect her from being trapped and captured was why it had given its agreement. At least, those were the feeling she’d gotten from her magic during their talks.

The ball of magic settled in her hand, a warm miniature sun. She looked at Dom. “How do we do this?”

“I eat it.” Dom gave a shrug as she lifted an eyebrow. “Though instead of storing it with the magic _allowance_ you’ve provided, it’ll be digested and assimilated into my aura.”

Harry studied the little ball of magic. It didn’t seem like much, though that was on purpose. This was a test to see not only how much magic it would take to form Dom’s anti-shield aura, but if it would work for her as it had for his physical form. Sending the ball of magic her gratitude for its willingness to help her like this, she gently nudged it over to Dom.

The magic went, and Dom received it with a gentle hand. He held it for a moment, dove-gray eyes showing for a moment the ages he’d witnessed as they studied the yellow-orange sun. He dipped his head in a reverent bow to the magic, then put the orb in his mouth.

And for the first time, Harry saw Dom _chew_.

Dom’s eyes closed, his face morphing into a look of pure contentment as he slowly chewed, savoring the morsel. After what must have been at least five minutes, he swallowed. Breathed in, and opened his eyes. “Simply sumptuous.”

“How long until it’s assimilated?” Harry asked slowly, eyeing him. Was it just her imagination, or had the air around him shimmered?

“Not until daybreak.” Dom gave a distracted hum and stretched. “It’s been a while since my last meal, and will take time to settle.”

“Well then, I will see you in the morning.” She stood, a hand on the back of her chair as she studied him one more time. How hungry had he been, that such a small orb of magic brought this much satisfaction? “Thanks for the tea, it was excellent.”

“Still room for improvement, though.” Dom sighed absently. He appeared to be almost asleep, if that was even possible. Did Dom sleep? She didn’t know, but was careful to close the door softly when she left the tearoom.

Harry woke with the dawn, feeling a little too warm as she drew herself out from under the covers. After preparing for the day, she sat back on the bed and slipped into her mindscape. She focused on going to Dom, and found herself back in the tearoom. She was surprised to see Dom slumped in the same chair as last night, his head lolled forward in sleep. Was this a normal part of the magic digestion process, or an affect of being within the construct?

She approached the Slytherin table quietly. There seemed to be a shimmer of heat surrounding him, the faintest tinge of red tainting the air. When she was close, Dom shivered once and blinked open unfocused eyes. He took a deep breath, and the mirage sank into his skin.

“Morning, Harriett.” Dom lifted a hand to cover a yawn.

“I didn’t know you slept.” She said as she sat. He rolled his neck in a stretch, a confused smile forming.

“Neither did I. It was an... unusual experience.” Dom shook his head as if to clear away the lingering residue of sleep. “Regardless, the magic has been assimilated.” He held out his hand, brows furrowing. The hazy mirage was quicker to form, coalescing into a red tinged orb of hot air— like the searing heat of the desert confined to one point. It was a little larger than the ball of magic he’d eaten the night before, and seemed stronger than it had been the last time she’d seen his aura. Dom wiggled his fingers, and a twirling breeze broke off from the aura to flit through her hair. She lifted a hand, and the breeze coiled around it with a gentle heat. It felt like Dom’s aura, only there was almost an aftertaste to it, a tinge to the warmth which reminded Harry of her own magical core.

“Your aura seems friendlier than I remember.” Harry said, watching as the breeze twirled around her wrist.

“It recognizes you as my wielder.” Dom studied the condensed heatwave in his hand with a bemused smile. “Your magic has left an imprint, which is peculiar. Though typically, the magic I’ve consumed hasn’t been so complaisant in its role.” Dom closed his hand, and the heat of his aura vanished with the mirage orb. However, the little breeze around her wrist remained.

“Aren’t you going to reclaim this one?” Harry asked. Dom shook his head.

“No. Should my aura listen to your commands, that piece will act as your connection to it.” He stood and offered her a hand. “Shall we continue on to phase two?”

Taking his hand, she stood and left her mindscape.

Opening her eyes back in her room, Harry noted that it was still early morning. Lifting a hand, she thought about the feel of Dom’s aura. It was always warm, whether an uncomfortable sizzle or a more gentle heat. She didn’t think it would be just a fire core though, despite the heat. No, Dom’s aura – if she thought of it in terms of a magical core – was more like a blend of fire and air. The breath of the desert at midday, or the harsh sort of beauty of an ever-distant mirage. The aftertaste of her own magic added a soft familiarity to it, while still maintaining the aura’s sense of being something _other_.

She found it, heat rising through her her magical coils in an alien sensation. She watched her hand, willing Dom’s aura to cloak it with a skin-tight weave. A shimmering mirage slowly formed, coating her hand with the Dominion Jewel’s sizzling heat. She directed the aura to spread as far as it could, and found her entire arm covered by the aura. Calculating the amount of magic she’d given Dom, Harry was satisfied by the result. The amount of magic needed to create a full-body shield with Dom’s aura wouldn’t cripple her core in the slightest.

Now, to test if the aura could do what she needed.

Harry kept a Protection Potion and Ward Disruptor under her bed; she got them out, along with an old tablecloth that had seen too many games of Exploding Snap. Spreading out the tablecloth, she poured a circle on it with the Protection Potion. Pressing her bare hand against the invisible barrier, she raised her other hand. Regular magic and physical things couldn’t get through a Fortis shield, but the Dominion Jewel’s powers could. Dom’s physical form had been able able to get through her shield. Time to see if his aura would let her do the same.

Setting her aura-coated fingertips to the barrier, Harry _pushed_ against it. The barrier offered resistance, but it felt as though enough pressure could shift it. She glared at the barrier, willing the aura to help her though it. Something shifted beneath her fingers, the shield denting beneath them. And suddenly, her fingers were through.

It was a strange sensation, as though she’d gotten her fingers stuck in a potion vial. She wiggled them, just to be sure she still could. Then she pushed against the pressure of the barrier until her entire hand was through. She only tested her arm up to the elbow, though. No sense in cutting the limb off at the shoulder if the aura suddenly failed.

_You still have time before it runs dangerously low,_ Dom interjected.

“Good to know you’re monitoring the output.” Harry said. Responding out-loud to Dom probably wasn’t a good habit to form, but she could blame talking to herself on the years she’d spent living alone in the alleys. She probably needed some eccentricities like that to help differentiate Rigel Black and Harry Potter for those who knew both. After all, Harry and Archie had no reason to hide differences in their personalities anymore, and people would expect to see the “real” them.

She pulled her arm completely out of the shield, then practiced sticking it back in for a while. In and out, each attempt shortening the time it took to push past the resistance.

So she could use Dom’s aura against a Fortis shield. Once there was enough for a full-body weave, she’d have to test it against the house wards. If it couldn’t get past an anti-disapparition ward, she wanted to know before attempting it at the Ministry.

Looking at her aura-coated arm, Harry drew the aura back in, shivering a little at the sudden chill that took her arm at its absence. Then she broke the shield, scourgified the tablecloth of potion residue, and put it back under the bed.

_That went well,_ Dom said as she headed down for breakfast.

_Hopefully the next test goes just as well,_ Harry sent back as she entered the kitchen. Despite the early hour, her father was already out claiming the post from the parliament of owls. When he came in without any packages from the apothecary and saw her, James smiled.

“Good morning, Fawn.”

“Morning, Dad. Anything for me?” She didn’t think there would be, as Harry didn’t have nearly as many friends as Rigel, and none of them would have reason to write to the halfblood heiress who wasn’t actually their friend’s beloved cousin.

James sorted through the envelopes that had passed the initial inspection, and she thought she saw a familiar spidery handwriting, but it was gone before she could be certain. Finished sorting, James shook his head. “I don’t see anything. What’s on your agenda today?”

Harry gave a shrug as she pulled out an apple and one of the muffins Sirius had baked yesterday. “Same routine as usual I suppos—” she pause as they heard the floo alarm, followed by rapid feet coming toward the kitchen.

“Harry!” Archie darted through the doorway, his eyes wide as they heard the floo alarm ping again. “Save yourself! Remus has lost his mind!”

“What?” Harry tilted her head, wondering just where Archie had found so much energy this early in the morning. Didn’t he usually sleep in later than this?

“He’s made his own _exams_!”

_Oh, that’ll be fun,_ Dom laughed, and she had the strangest thought that he was eating popcorn.

“That’s correct, Archie.” Remus said as he walked into the kitchen, carrying a _massive_ stack of parchment. “Today you’re both going to take some mock exams I’ve prepared to gauge where you need to focus your studies in the coming month. I hope you remembered your wand, Archie, you’ll need it for the practical portion of the exams. You’ll need yours as well, Harry.” The look Remus gave her made Harry nervous. He knew what her wand looked like, but she couldn’t use her holly wand, because _everyone_ knew Rigel’s wand.

She needed a new wand, _immediately_.

Taking the muffin in one hand and apple in the other, she offered her uncle a smile. “I’ll go get it.” She did not run, running implied that there was something to hide. Besides, Archie’s anxious bouncing was enough for them both. At least it could be blamed on the exams. She led him to her lab. The moment the door shut, she threw up a privacy charm and darted to her ingredient stores.

“What are we going to do? You can’t use your wand!” Archie ran a hand through his hair, which was turning an ill-looking pistachio. Expanding her magical awareness, she moved along the shelves until she found the one she wanted and pulled out a rectangular piece of holly wood. She’d gotten it during winter break, intending to use it in an alchemy project, but never gotten around to it. It was wand quality wood, and had felt right to her when she’d picked it out. Now she scanned her lab, and followed the tug of her magic to her potions kit. She dug in it, letting her magic lead her hand. When she pulled her hand out, it held the braided friendship bracelet she’d made out of unicorn hair.

_Dom?_ She asked as she took the wood and bracelet to a brewing station.

_Call up_ _your magic and_ _my aura, and I’ll guide you through the process,_ Dom’s enthusiasm was appreciated, but the sinister chuckle was a little much. Still, she held both hands over the wand components. With Dom’s mental nudges, she carved the wood with a mixture of her magic and his aura. When it felt right, the wood looked suspiciously similar to her phoenix wand, though it was about a quarter-inch shorter and slightly thicker. Next her magic drilled through the center from the bottom, hollowing a space large enough for the braid of unicorn hair. Dom’s aura swept through the wood, and she sensed it carving infinitesimal runes along the interior. The clasps were removed from the bracelet, then her magic gently slid the braid into the hollowed space, imbuing itself to the hairs once they were ensconced. The opening was seamlessly sealed.

_Pick it up,_ Dom said, and she caught an image of him in the Sekhmet chamber of the pyramid, his aura a radiating mirage around him.

Reaching out with her wand hand, she picked up the newly-carved wand. It didn’t feel like a wand yet, just a magic imbued stick with some sentimental hairs at its core. Her magic and Dom’s aura entwined around her hand, reaching for the potential wand. Dom’s voice filled her mind with a rhythmic chant, and she joined her voice to his mental one. She could feel the power in the words – which she thought might be Middle Egyptian – fill the room.

Like the slowness of a sunrise, she felt the stick in her hand come alive. It started as a faint vibration, a low _thrumming_ that she could neither feel nor hear physically. With her magical awareness, however, it was like freebrewing. She saw the possibilities, the threads of what could be if their chanting changed cadence, or the mingled magics parted, or if she blinked. Harry weaved the threads with Dom’s guidance, shaping the magics and how they were imbued to the wand.

When the unicorn-braid core woke, she nearly cried at the emphatic _joy_ it sang out with upon sensing her, the former bracelet having absorbed the essence of her friendship with Draco and Pansy.

The holly wood considered her, and seemed to regard its core’s reaction with curiosity. She felt the wand judging her, her magic, and even Dom’s presence within her mind. The wand weighed her worthiness of its allegiance.

Silvery mist streamed from the wand’s tip, coiling briefly with the mingled magics surrounding it.

_Well done,_ Dom praised her, Y _ou’ve created your own magical focus._

“Wow,” Harry stiffened at the awe in Archie’s voice, having forgotten that he was in the lab. “Have you been studying wandlore?”

“I couldn’t have done this without Dom’s guidance.” Harry tapped her temple as she called the magic back to her. Dom’s aura wrapped around the new wand before it returned, and she noticed the newly carved wood now appeared properly aged and coated.

“Come on, we’d better go before Remus comes looking for us.” Archie said. She nodded, and pointed the new wand at the littered evidence of its creation.

“Evanesco.” The spell worked perfectly, wand practically buzzing with its core’s excitement. Tucking the wand into her pocket, she followed Archie upstairs and tried to placate the Vow’s irritation at how today wouldn’t be focused on preparing for the ceremony. The day might be focused on O.W.L. prep, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t work on her plan for the ceremony tonight.

The Vow settled reluctantly, and she shivered at how finicky it was about this ceremony, compared to how it had been during her preparations for the actual tournament. Was it because of her initial rejection of the ceremony? How exactly did vows judge those bound beneath them?

One thing was certain: she never wanted to take an Unbreakable Vow again.


End file.
